She took some shirts, underwear, shoes, a duffel bag, and his wallet to make it look like he had gone a-traveling. The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket. “Oh dear, I’m not dressed. In that case I'll help you. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTI5LjIxOC4xMTEgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDIxOjQ2OjMxIC0gMzIwMTk5NTM3
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